The Hebridean Black
by Sunnydaze
Summary: She thinks about the time she spent with him in Romania and the feelings he created (Penelope/Charlie) Slightly angsty but not too much!


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The Hebridean Black 

Her worn sandals made small slapping noises against the steaming dirt, the smell of dust and heat heavy in the air. Her first visit here was when she was twenty-two, heartbroken and anxious to bury herself in a mountain of work to escape the traps of her own mind. Then she'd wandered into a trap of a different sort.

He had been grinning and heavily freckled, old pink and white scars criss-crossing over the backs of his hands. Later she learned of the shiny burns located further up his arms and on his pale back. There were calluses on his palms and bulky muscle shifting over his entire body. He'd waved and after emptying a bucket of dragon manure (which fetched a high price on the magic market), jogged over to greet her. He had been puzzled over her sudden appearance in Romania since the last time he had seen her, she had been engaged to his younger brother. Finally she had broken down into sobs, explaining through heady breaths that Percy had broken it off- for a younger girl. He had gathered her in his arms and informed her that his brother was a git and she'd looked up at him and seen the way his red hair curled over the tips of his ears and the mischievous look in his brown eyes, a glint that always seemed so suspicious in the twins. She had known _OF_ him first, everyone who had gone to Hogwarts knew of Charles Weasley with his extraordinary quidditch record. What was the more bizarre turn of events was that even after being rushed by professional teams such as the Kenmore Kestrels and the Caerphilly Catapults, Charlie Weasley had elected to go work with dragons in Romania. But by then she had known him for years, having met him through her boyfriend- then fiancé- then ex. 

It was then, when she saw his merry grin and felt his arms resting on her back as tears ran down her face that unconsciously she let her heart be healed. There was something different about Charlie Weasley. 

For the next few weeks she had taken every spare moment to visit him at the reserve. Her paperwork took a back seat as she learned the best way to clip a Hebridean Black's toe nails and which way to brush the Swedish Short-Snout's teeth. Charlie hadn't wanted to let her near the Hebridean Black but, she grinned, he hadn't been allowed a choice. The gouge in her shoulder, a souvenir of the affair, was her source of pride and she had set Charlie laughing more than once when she purposely wore sleeveless shirts to show the scar off. She liked it when he laughed. He threw his whole head back and roared the house down, genuine tears sometimes forming at the edge of his eyes. Her skin toughened to a dark tan in the sun and her chocolate locks began to sport red streaks. Her glasses had been broken more than once and after a while, she had stopped repairing them so they hung lopsided down her small nose. 

Her time flew by until she was recalled by the British Minister of Magic for the documents she had been deciphering in her spare time. She hadn't wanted to leave. She didn't want to go anywhere where she couldn't hear Charlie's laugh as he threw back his head, or admire his arm flexing as he tossed a bale of hay over his shoulder, the way he smelled after work- a spicy, cinnamony, smoky mixture from the dragons, soap, and salty sweat. Her chest grew tight thinking of the rumble in his own chest when he told 

her jokes in the melody of his warm, slightly husky voice or the grin he would beam her, white in his freckled face, when they shared a quiet moment together. 

England didn't seem the same when she returned. Her breath caught when she thought of the forests, the intense heats and the cold nights she had spent in Romania. Almost two years after she and Percy had 'mutually' broken it off- or he dumped her- she received an invitation to his wedding. The wedding of Percy Weasley and Alicia Spinnet. It didn't incur a bitterness inside the pits of her stomach, like a festering worm, as once she had thought it would. She had been undecided as to whether or not to go when she realized that of course Charlie would be there. She hadn't seen him for six months. She wanted to see him. She accepted the invitation. 

Her gran died and she couldn't attend. She sent the proud bride and blushing groom a wonderful present even as she donned her mourning clothes and attended the funeral. Her heart longed to see Charlie so he could comfort her. She and her gran had been close- she had even lived with her gran for two years during her parents' messy divorce. She didn't get a chance to see Charlie. By the time she had returned from Ireland and the family burial plot, he had gone back to his dragons in Romania. She went to visit Ginny and look at the pictures of the wedding party. Ginny had been only too happy to share. She plopped a manila folder on the kitchen table and proceeded to sort through it, starting with Great-Uncle Eranis twice removed. She had waited impatiently for the picture she sought, resisting the urge to tap her foot. Then there he was... his arms wrapped around another woman. The strange blond, a woman in her late twenties, in the picture kept letting loose tinkling peals of laughter and running her tapered, well manicured fingers up and down his arm criss-crossed with scars and burns. Her throat clogged as she stared at it and she forced herself to breath, looking down at her own nails which were bitten raw from when she had been anxious about her last meeting. She gruffly asked Ginny if she might have some tea. Ginny smiled, thinking she understood, and prepared the kettle. 

That night, her heart crumbled and collapsed but she remained dry eyed as she clutched her pillow close to her chest. She had been letting her imagination get away from her because naturally she could not be so attached to Charlie. Especially when he was so attached to blondes with manicures that had never clipped a Hebridean Black's toenail and would never dream of displaying a scar proudly. She blushed thinking of her own and glared at the indent in her shoulder. He had probably been snickering up his leather jerkin at her childish antics. 

Now she was back in Romania, sent by the Minister to decipher more old manuscripts and ancient spells. She had been there a week before she dared to visit the reserve. She elected a time when he should be busy and wouldn't know that she was there. In spite of the sweat that trickled down her neck, she wore a three-quarter sleeve shirt that had been white and crisp that morning. However, by the time she reached the RESTRICTED: DRAGONS, HIGHLY DANGEROUS notice, the shirt was damp and lightly streaked from some dirt. Her chocolate curls were tucked up in a high pony tail and beneath her khaki shorts were thin sandals, the soles holey and almost worn out. 

She walked to the stables where the animals for the dragons were kept. She enjoyed the small temperature drop that the shadowy recesses gave and vague shapes of cows mooed and chewed their hay. She stopped to talk with the stable manager, in the same place she had left him, standing by a water pail at the far end. She smiled and laughed and winked but the manager couldn't help notice that her laughter wasn't the same, her grins had a different quality, and that her winks weren't as saucy as they had been the last time he'd seen her. 

Finally, she leaned against a railing, sharing the cows food and chewing on a straw of hay. Her mood felt lightened, she reflected as she stared into space. She was glad she had come, perhaps now she would have the closure she had never admitted she'd needed. 

"Penelope?" A startled but warm and slightly husky voice exclaimed. Penelope lost her balance and narrowly avoided plunging headfirst into a puddle of mud. A pair of arms wrapped around her just in time and yanked her back. She closed her eyes, smelling him again for the first time in two years. Her heart, which had been sent racing when she was jolted from her meditations, gradually slowed. Charlie's arms withdrew and she turned to greet him. 

She had forgotten how large his presence was. Charlie wasn't very tall, only a few inches taller than her, but he seemed like he was everywhere. She blinked furiously and her breathing became labored again as she re-examined him. There were more wrinkled around his eyes now and a new scar on his cheek. Suddenly his face broke out into the grin he had used to share with her. 

"I was wondering when the lure of the dragons would get too much for you."

Penelope flushed along the delicate lines of her cheekbones. "Maybe I came back just to see Xander," he was the stable manager, "ever think of that?"

Then she watched in delight as Charlie tossed back his head and let out a roar of laughter. "Lass, you and I both know that no one ever comes back to see that old coot!"

She sniffed indignantly. "I like him. Don't be ridiculous Charles Weasley."

"So are we back to Charles and Miss Penelope?" he asked, folding his arms and looking her over. Penelope blushed again and ducked her head down, letting her eyelashes veil her eyes. Charlie's eyes swept over her, noting the old mangled spectacles on her nose and the wispy curls framing her face. He 

memorized the way the somewhat damp shirt clung to her slender frame. The full, rather pouty lips he already knew and underneath the tangle of long eyelashes were her pale blue eyes. 

"I missed you, you know," he said softly, stepping closer to gently brush the soft skin of her face with his calloused thumbs. 

"I bet you say that to everyone," Penelope replied, her eyes resting on his hands for a moment before settling just above his shoulders. She was looking away intently. 

"No, not everyone darling."

"What about that blonde at Percy's wedding?"

"What blonde?" A frown creased Charlie's forehead though his thumbs continued to caress her face. His expression cleared and he looked down at her, forcing her to look at him. "She was an old flame of mine and Bill's. Nothing happened." He took a step closer. "How could I do anything with her when all of my thoughts were centered on my other brother's ex... the woman who displayed her battle scars and wasn't afraid to face my friends head on."

She mused inwardly that perhaps her heart hadn't crumbled and collapsed after all, because right then it constricted and gave a great jolt that reminded her of it. Her heart wasn't ready to become dormant again, it threatened to overrun the suspicious thoughts drifting through her brain as she struggled to accept what Charlie was saying. 

Her heart won. Her arms moved to drape around his neck. 

"If you don't mean me, I'll get my friend the Hebridean to rip your heart out," she joked softly, not entirely joking.

"Actually...," Charlie began with a grin. 

"Oh shut up. Kiss me or sod off, you bugger," Penelope snapped, her temper fraying and nerves bouncing like Mexican jumping beans in her stomach. 

He kissed her; her fingers tangled through his hair while his wasted no time and the buttons popped off the blouse molded to her body. As liquid fire coursed through her veins, Penelope smiled against his lips and began her own removal of his shirt. She looked up at him and her eyes were hazy with love and desire, a ruffled queen among the hay that they had fallen into. Charlie grinned at his sultry mistress and kissed the scar on her shoulder. 

"Hey Charlie, did you catch Miss Penelope before she left?" Xander asked as he rounded the corner. The grizzled man's jaw dropped as he faced the scene before him. "Is that, uh, really necessary? I don't think that's appropriate!"

Charlie proceeded to ignore him. Xander clapped his hands over his eyes.

"Charles Weasley!" he squeaked. "Save it for the marriage bed!"

* * *

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Dear Minister Fudge,

I would like to tender my resignations from the Dept. of Archaic Artifacts. I plan to be leaving the office as soon as possible. I will return to remove my possessions in one week. If you need to be in contact with me before hand, I am at the dragon reserves located in Romania **serving the humble sex-god Charlie Weasley**(_Charlie! Erase that_!). 

Sincerely yours, 

Penelope Clearwater

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--- A/N--- I made up the climate of Romania for this flight of fancy. I just couldn't help it! Ever since the Alicia/ Percy ship got on my mind, I've been wondering who Penelope ends up with. And we all LOVE Charlie (if you don't why bother reading this?!). I just put them together and now I can't think of them with anyone else! Hey… maybe I even created a ship! Oh man, that would be SO cool! Ah well. Thanks for reading! 

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